


Doctor Who - Colepaldi RPF - What if...

by Samstown4077



Series: Colepaldi Collection [50]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who RPF
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Humour, Parting of the Ways, RPF, Suppressed Feelings, suggested feelings, suggested romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 14:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5052235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samstown4077/pseuds/Samstown4077
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if... Jenna is not leaving? What if ... someone else is? This is Number 50 in the C-Collection, so I tried to write something different and special.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor Who - Colepaldi RPF - What if...

**Author's Note:**

> So, big deal, this is No. 50 for the Colepaldi Collection, I started writing in September '14. I never thought that would happen. It did! 
> 
> What is this about? I not want to spoil you too much (you can read the end notes if you like to get spoiled), so ... I wrote about so much topics and moments and scenes, and one night it hit me, to write something different, and I like the way it turned out. This fic visits (in non chronicle order) little moments we all know somehow since 2014, since Peter and Jenna have started to film with each other, like the World Tour or I have some scene that play around certain episodes. I don't label the sections, you'll know quickly what event/episode I am talking about. I also used this fic to fulfill two prompts from tumblr. A dancing scene and someone wanted me to write about the "demand Clara back" scene in TW'sF. 
> 
> Even this fic, seems to play in another universe, I "revisit"/ touch a few of my old fics. You don't have to have read them all, it's just a gimmick and readers who can remember it might makes it smile. Somehow all the fics were always connected, and that's why you might wonder why I didn't go into depth at some points in this fic, because I already have in my old fics. 
> 
> Now enough, more in the later notes. Enjoy!

The picture was slightly creased. One corner was ripped off from some cello-tape, with which it had been taped to a wall a while ago, before it had been removed to stick it to another. It was not really old, maybe two years — time and affection toward it, had left its marks.

Jenna held it in her hands, staring at it, smiling over the picture of two people smiling at each other. She did it more often in the last few weeks. She couldn’t help it, she just had too. It was one of her favourite pictures of Peter and her, taken in New York when they had done the World Tour. It had been such a buzz, and she would always remember those times fondly.

Now, after the decision had been made, even more.

The picture holding ritual she did once a day, was a synonym for the situation. She tried to keep hold of it. Of memories, of moments — of him mostly. The times they had shared, one of the best times she ever had.

The separation that would soon come would hurt in some strange way. She had his phone number and they would meet up here and there, it wasn't that one of them would leave planet. And yet.

Knowing they would be separated soon, wouldn’t be around 24/7 each other, stung. She knew it was a step that had to be done, she had known the day she had started the job and he had known it too.

At least, she thought, they had two great years together. Two years of adventures, of silly jokes, of lovely moments — Comic Con just to say one. Great story arcs, and the most perfect chemistry she ever had with a co-star.

Now things would go differently. Everything would change now. Even if everything else would stay the same.

Even, there would be a new Doctor soon.

##

Peter sat in his trailer, reading some fan letters, busy answering some, as he usually did when he had some time at hand. After the fifteens, he got a cramp in his hand, and stopped, shoving the papers carefully back into the folder they had been in. Resting his head against the trailer wall, he sighed.

Answering letters, and he tried to give everyone a go, was tortures, exhausting and almost impossible to make. He guessed, he nevertheless would miss it. The letters wouldn’t stop only because he stopped being the Doctor, but would run lower.

Rubbing his eyes he reached for his notebook with his scribbles, notes and some drawings. When he opened it, he landed on the one page, he had shoved a picture between. He always landed on the same page, it was his daily ritual, looking at the picture.

Jenna and him in New York. She was wearing this lovely yellow dress he had quite adored on her, and could remember that the weather had been beautiful that day. He smirked, also remembering that he had taken some pictures of her with his own camera. That one he kept on another page.

He would miss her dearly, but after four years doing this job, he felt it was time to let go of his dream job. It had been four incredible years, also four years he was 24/7 busy with doing this job, and he guessed it had cost him a bit of life time. It had been worth it.

The plan had been to stop last Christmas, after his first series with Jenna, but then he realized he couldn’t leave it like that. With only one series, and with so much potential, and so he told Steven he would give one more series a go. Luckily the actor they had already chosen — but not revealed — was easily persuaded with another big role, so he would wait another year.

It had been one of the best decisions he ever could make, aside taking the job from Matt Smith when the young man had regenerated earlier as planned, as he went his way to Hollywood.

He had some fun time with Karen and Arthur, till they parted a year later and he was without a constant companion for a while. Half a series he was with Alex (Kingston), who was one of the most loveliest people he ever met, and then they started the casting for the new companion for Series 8.

Out of many, they had put him in a room with three women who’d been a possibility for the character of Clara Oswald. Jenna had been the last, and when they rehearsed some scenes together in the read through room of the BBC building in Cardiff, he knew, she was the one.

It had clicked immediately and he was stunned by the young woman, who wasn’t even thirty at the time. The others had been older, and he had been keen on going with someone older, but the problem was, that Jenna had been too good, too convincing.

She got the job and took over in the Christmas Special, and the short time they shared acting together let him forget about all the other companions way too quickly. He almost felt bad about it. They never had met before, and yet he had felt an instant connection with her.

After eight months of filming they hopped right into a plane for the World Tour. Jenna only had been on screen for about twenty minutes in the special, but she was well received by the fans and the critics. Quickly people talked about an unbelievable chemistry, and there were days he wanted to believe the people were wrong, but when he looked at the interviews they gave together and some pictures of them, they both couldn't deny it.

The whole thing had been very hard work. Twelve days of many appointments and less sleep, but surprisingly they found strength in the other. They had so much fun and one day she stood in his room, buzzing with energy.

“What’s with you lot? 14 hour day, and you look like you could run for another mile, giving autographs,” he tousled his hair, smirking at her petite figure bouncing up and down in his room. “Could you stand still for a moment? You making me all dizzy!”

“Sorry,” she stopped on the spot, her body swinging back and forth and when three seconds had passed, she clapped her hands and started moving again. Peter sighed, half laughing, half yawning. “I shouldn’t have had the espresso for dinner, I guess.”

“I am not sure, if it had made a difference,” he placed his jacket on a hanger, watching her browse through some books he had brought — as if he would ever find the energy to read them, “Being twenty-eight allows you to be like this without espresso.”

“What? And being fifty-seven doesn’t?” she spun around, observing him with rose eyebrows. “You are not old, you know, just... ,” she couldn’t find the word that were flying around in her caffeine pumped up head.

“... very mature?” Peter suggested.

“Mature?” she blurted. “You are the least mature person I ever met. You’re actually a nine year old, living his dream, aren’t you?”

Peter couldn’t be sure if she meant to say all that, or if she simply was so full of endorphins and sleep deprived at the same time, that she babbled out what was in her mind. And he sensed she wasn’t finished yet.

“Basically,” he only mumbled, sitting himself onto the bed, shoes off, the first button of his shirt open, as waiting for an unfolding play, she would give him involuntarily.

Jenna noticed, he had stopped being busy, and looked at him, looking at her, his hands resting aside from him on the bed. She almost had told him to go on with whatever he had started, till she realized, he probably wanted to get undressed and go to bed.

A violent blush rushed into her cheeks, and instead of feeling awkward, she bit her lips and grinned, “All the fuss, it’s just insane, isn’t it? How do you even do it? As the Doctor, they are all over you.”

He tilted his head with a chuckle, “I am just Peter,” he began. “Going home on the weekends is telling me exactly that. Peter running the errands and Peter cleaning the dishes. Keeps you on the ground pretty well.”

Nibbling her lip with her teeth, she thought about it, never breaking the eye contact. For a reason she interpreted more into it, as it was his intention, and he saw it, “I didn’t mean to-”

She rose her hand, stopping him, and suddenly she was ‘ _sobered up’_ from her caffeine rush, feeling wrong in the place, “I better go now, mh? I think the espresso is wearing off. Thanks for the listening. See you for breakfast.”

He couldn’t reach out anymore to her, so fast she swirled around and left his room, leaving him behind with a muddled up mind.

Feeling utterly stupid, Jenna fell onto her bed, groaning into the pillow. Not only since yesterday she had noticed, that they were both giving the other looks while thinking the other wasn’t seeing it. It had started out with a frown on his face, like a sudden idea he once had heard about, but ever had thought it was only a myth, had crawled into his head — ready to stay.

For no reason she knew it was happening to him. One day she came around, gave him the usual hug, and when he looked at her, as if she just had told him about a naked Cybermen, she sensed it. From there on, there was something in his eyes. People called it chemistry and fondness — Jenna called it … differently.

She grabbed the phone and called him, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to run away like this. I know how you meant it. It’s good to have something that keeps one on the ground. I adore that.”

“Has someone ever told you, that you are utterly charming and confusing?” he lay on the bed in the dark, staring at the ceiling.

“Nope, not that I know someone so brave,” she smirked. “What means, you are not only immature, you are also very brave. A rare mix — interesting.”

“No more espressos for you, Jenna-Louise,” he growled, then wished her a good night and hung up, having a smirk on his lips. He really had to talk to Steven about the Christmas Special. He needed to write a non-regeneration end. Just in case, just in case he would keep on falling for Jenna.

#

They were in San Diego. It was this time of the year, time for Comic Con. It was his second, and her first, and she was nervous and full of beans the moment they put there feet on the ground of San Diego.

“This is so crazy,” was what he heard a lot from her over the week they were there. “How do you do this? Walking in front of 7000 people, just like that?”

The panel would be the next day, and while he was nervous she was somewhere between exciting and ‘ _I think I am going to throw up’_.

“How? Well, rather simple, on my two legs,” he smirked, and she smacked him for it. “Believe me you will realize it only when it’s over. While, it’s like a strange dream. It was to me.”

Then they separated, Peter having another interview and she had to think about what dress she wanted to wear.

An hour later he was finished, and found a missing call on his phone. He wondered and called Jenna back.

“Emergency!” was her answer, and in the background he could hear the rustling of dress hangers.

He guessed it was nothing very serious, but he quickened his pace, “What happened?”

“I need your opinion on my dress!”

“Mine? I am not sure if I am the person for it,” he stepped into the elevator of the hotel. “I usually don’t wear skirts and dresses.”

“I saw pictures of you doing it, so you are way better as the rest of the male population, aside you are my best friend!” Jenna shoved three dresses from A to B and back again. “That makes you so what qualified!”

“Ding, dong, okay, brilliant!” he chuckled. “I am there in a minute.”

“No!”

“What no?”

“I am … basically naked,” she squeaked, embarrassed over stating the fact, but she was afraid he would burst into the room, after she had made such a fuss.

“It’s a roller-coaster this phone call. I hope you know,” he stepped outside the lift and slowly walked down the corridor.

“I come to your room,” she explained, and quickly added. “Dressed. And then you say if I can go like this or not.”

“A-alright,” he vanished into his room, giving Jenna’s door across from his a chuckle. “I’ll promise I’ll act non existing disappointment.”

“Why would you…?” she glanced at her half dressed person in the mirror. “Oh, very funny.”

“I am just teasing,” he smirked and went to the mini bar to find some soda.

“Get ready, I’ll be there in two.”

“Get ready?” he asked while trying to open the can with one hand. “What do you expect me to do? Making popcorn in the not existing microwave?”

“Boys!” was all he heard before she hung up on him. He laughed, drank his soda and waited till she would storm in, two minutes later, looking beautiful as ever. Wearing a blue plain dress, with a silver necklace and small belt. He told her to wear it, and she asked him why, and he told her because it looked good on her and because he had the perfect matching suit for it.

“Simple as that?” she asked, not wearing any shoes and for a moment they both watched her wriggle her toes.

“Simple as that,” he hung the suit back into the wardrobe. “Also, I don’t know what shirt I should wear.”

Jenna joined him by the wardrobe, glancing over the dozen shirts he had brought, “This one,” she took a dark shirt with an imprint with leaves on it out and gave it to him.

“Why this, exactly? Just because I am curious,” he had bought it not long ago, and had never worn it before.

“Because it’s ridiculous,” Jenna shrugged and went back to the spot she had stood before.

“Excuse me?” he shook his head, worried he had something in his ears.

“It is, I mean look at it,” she then beamed at him. “But it will look good on you. It’s like the space shirt you once wore, last year. Imprint shirts, I mean, come one, it’s something for twenty something's,” he wasn’t sure where this would go, and looked with concern and confusion at her. She found his expression rather amusing, “And then you come along, and it looks brilliant on you. I don’t know why, but … it does.”

“Is this a compliment?” he hung the shirt to the suit.

First she looked at him without any big expression, and then she simply threw him the biggest grin she had — filled with a 100 Gigawatt of joy, “It probably is.”

The next day the panel went by like a dream for her, almost too fast, but they both had fun and joy, and at the end Jenna couldn’t hold back, declaring how much she loved Peter and how much she loved working with him in the Tardis. He was embarrassed terribly, kissing her on the temple, uttering a thank you.

He had thought the World Tour had been intense, crafting a strong bond. Then after their first year together, this trip turned out to bind them even closer together. They never had been so tactile in public, mostly her with him, and he let her.

Sometimes he wondered why.

#

“Did you know,” Peter rubbed his hands together, “that Eccleston used to grab Piper, to dance along with her on the set, while there were waiting?”

Jenna had snuggled into her long coat, while there were waiting for the scene to go on. Aside they were indoors, she had put on the long, fluffy coat, as she was only in her short, fancy 1920s dress, and the standing around always gave the cold a chance to creep into her.

Blinking a few times she looked at Peter, who was busy looking around on the set and it was obvious to her, he was avoiding her looks.

“I heard that,” she said and wondered why he mentioned it.

“You know why he did it?” he suddenly laid his piercing eyes on her.

“F-fun?”she could only stammer.

“Ah,” he blinked and looked less like a predator, and more like the caring and warmth emanating Peter she liked so much, “good point, never have thought of it, actually. He mostly did it,” he looked down to her hands, that were hiding in the too long sleeves of her coat. After a second of hesitation he reached down with one hand, into the sleeve and made Jenna grab his hand, “to keep her warm.”

She couldn’t react in any way, and before she realized he had put her hand on his arm and had placed his hand on her side, his warm fingers holding her slightly colder hand. Not that she really minded.

Peter winked at her, and luckily his brave act of chivalry was supported by the sound guy who let the music keep playing between takes, to keep everyone in the mood.

Someone really had put some thought in this, Peter guessed. He had noticed, that there was a whole playlist of Jazz, Blues and ‘ _good old times_ ’ playing.

For a few seconds, they swayed around on the spot, staring at each other. They never had done it before, and Jenna wondered, what had made him come up with the idea.

Probably the episode, the atmosphere and the music, or maybe because of this one unspoken question while the read through, why there was no dance in such an episode.

At least that had been her thought, and she couldn’t remember anymore if she had uttered some sort of complain about it under her breath while packing her bag, before she hurried away to catch her plane to London.

Then the song changed, and Peter started to chuckle when the first beats of the song echoed through the room.

“What is it?” she asked quizzically.

He smirked, “It’s a good song,” was the only thing he said, and then he actually started to hum with the it.

Jenna went with it, and why not, alone his hand on her back — even she was wearing this thick jacket — was making her warm. Listening to the song, she recognized it after a bit, having it heard somewhere.

Peter see-sawed them both with the music, and when he began to sing, she looked at him half in shock, half in surprise.

He gave her a twitch with his eyebrow and a smirk, “ _By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes, Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond.”_

Jenna smiled at him, before grabbing his upper arm tighter, stepping slightly more toward him, and for a moment he forgot the lines of a song, he should know by heart, when not just being caged in a narrow set, with dozen of busy people. When not just having the courage of dancing along with his co-star.

With the refrain, she helped him out, “ _O ye'll take the high road, and I'll take the low road,_

_And I'll be in Scotland afore ye.”_

For another minute they swayed to the song, and indeed it had helped — she wasn’t cold anymore, and she had the impression, Peter wanted to tuck at his tie, to lose it a bit, when he let go of her, blushing.

“I could get used to it,” she smirked, the sleeves of her jacket falling back in place over her hands, letting her look like she had shrunk.

He almost said it, almost admitted that he could too. Then his sound mind got the better of him, making him shrug with his left shoulder. It was a try to be casual about it, but his head nodded at the same time, before his eyes averted and watched the long jacket and covered arms. Reaching down, he frowned at the material, while Jenna wiggled the tip of her fingers that was the only thing that peeked out of the sleeve hole, “Isn’t that my jacket?”

Jenna smirked, having him watched after she had told him she could get used to it. She had also seen his look when she had stepped out of the make-up and wardrobe section, that he had forgotten to breathe for a second, while his eyes quickly had scanned over her, a smile darting over his face. Then he was a gentleman complimenting the nice dress, before he had blindly grabbed for one of the jackets, handing it to her.

“That,” she shrugged, giving him a smug smirk, “or I did shrink.” Pulling the jacket closer around her, she thought, that she could get used to this too. Wearing his jacket, having his scent on it, it gave her some sort of special comfort.

Peter pulled out his sonic, and whooshed over her appearance with it, before checking the non-existing display, “Nay, still 5ft 2.”

“Dork.”

He gave her a smoulder and then the filming went on.

#

“You were good,” Jenna approached him in the break room, after lunch time.

Peter sat at the table, his head buried in the script, one hand around a warm coffee mug, the other holding a pen underlining words, “Huh?”

“Today,” she pulled out the chair after the next, slowly sitting down, also warming her hands at her hot tea. “When you did the … ‘ _Demanding speech_ ’,” she lowered her voice trying to sound a bit Scottish, what usually never worked, and he gave it a genuine smile.

‘ _Clara Oswald. I want Clara Oswald!’_

He gave the memory a thought, he had to act it without her, only with a room full of Daleks, “I might have over-acted a wee bit?”

‘ _Save. Alive. Returned to me immediately. You bring her back. You do that!’_

“No,” she answered observant. They had played the audio track for them, when they had to act the scenes in the sewers. She hadn’t heard it before, and she still found it impressive how Peter acted his Twelve this year, while telling everyone that there was and will be no romance between Clara and the Doctor.

‘ _You do that now! Unharmed. Unhurt. Alive.’_

She never had any doubt about it, not that she had been in for it from the beginning, but after a few weeks of shooting and feeling this sudden bond between him and her, she realized, that this was something that would happen so or so. There was no way out of it, and when they had finished up MOTOE, it was evidently happen — with the bless of the writers (let alone the fans).

When she was at Cons or gave interviews, she constantly talked about a deep connection, about the famous ‘ _I love you’_ , that hadn’t been for Danny Pink, choosing her words vague, but there was a clear statement hidden. While Peter also talked about a fond bond, about something that went deeper as a romance, he seemed more away for the actual idea of a partnership between 12 and Clara. She wondered what he really thought about it, and she guessed it felt strange to him, to admit that this Doctor — who was wearing his face — was deeply in love with his younger companion.

The age gap, it must be, she assumed. The real life age gap, that had thrown him into trouble at some point since they were working together. Though, she never asked him, not because she was afraid, more because she sensed it would cause him some trouble emotionally.

They both knew, Steven never had a romance from the start in mind, not had wasted one thought about his two characters finding interest in each other. Not till they had put Jenna and Peter in one room, at the read through, and 90 minutes later the unsaid was tactile for even the caretaker in the next room.

“No, you… I liked it,” she brought the mug with both her hands to her mouth, carefully sipping. The hot liquid swirled around in her mouth for a bit, while she pondered over the next words she had in mind. “I think…,” she started quickly, only to lose confidence, but urged herself to speak on, “I think… this is about to become, the best series of you.”

It made him remember how uncertain he had been in his first series, almost four years ago. His age had been a big topic in the press, some people had titled him too old, what only made him smug, answering that the Doctor was over a 1000 years old. What made him actually too young for the role.

On the outside he had been all confident, but on the inside, he had been nervous — like one should probably be. In the end it had turned out wonderful. Press and fans loved him, and he loved the role and quickly people titled him as the best Doctor ever.

As he forgot to answer, Jenna went on, speaking what else was on her mind. “You’re going to leave after this series, don't you?”

It was an open secret to her, but as he never had talked to her about it, she had found some strange hope inside her head and heart, while she sometimes laid awake late at night.

He looked up to her, placing the pen aside, guilt spreading through him, “Jenna-”

“-You never talk about it, not with me,” she interrupted. “You hinted the press, but you never pulled me aside, telling me the facts. As if…”

“...I am afraid it would hurt you,” he gulped a knot in his throat down. “Making rumours facts, making a good time come to an end.”

Jenna tried it with a laugh, “Hey, I am grown up. Also a professional, I can handle the facts, don’t you think?”

He placed the cap back onto the pen, closing the script, shoving all his stuff under one arm, while awkwardly standing up, “I never said, _you_ couldn’t.”

‘ _Because if Clara Oswald is really dead. You better be very, very careful how you tell me!’_

—

“You know what the best thing about this job was?” he asked, his voice light and sad at the same time. It was clear to her, he wanted to cheer her up, instead she felt, he made her even more sad. It was probably her own fault, being all that attached to him.

“You rocking the guitar?” she chuckled, brushing a tear away.

“Ahw, yes, that was awesome too-”

“-You flying the Tardis?!” she kept on guessing, having fun in seeing how his face shone with delight over her ideas.

“Yes, also, but,” he pointed at her with his two ridiculously long forefingers. “Do you know what the very best thing about this show was?... We. You and me.”

He smiled at her, breaking apart on the inside seeing her eyes go all puppy like, seeing her inner melting when she realized what he just said.

With a sniff, she urged some tears back, “I am going to miss you.”

“Oh, come on, why would you do that?” he was sniffling now too. “You go and have great other adventures with another Doctor. You’ll be fine, you’ll be great. There is no need missing me.”

“What if there is?” she wanted to take a step forward, but then she wouldn’t be able to hold back, would throw herself into his arms, and that she couldn’t do. Not in this state, when her walls were all let down. The impression it would make, would be burned into her, and that would make the goodbye even more unbearable in the end.

He sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets, afraid they would develop a life of their own, “Why would there ever be a reason?”

“You know why, I don’t have to tell you,” she shoved her hands also into the pockets of her denims, balancing on her heels. The room was warm, but she felt so cold.

“No, you don’t have to,” he watched her long, watching a tear roll down her cheek, and before he could think of something different, he finally reached out and brushed it away with his thumb. It would be always a riddle to him, how she did that with her eyes. This inflating. “I am not leaving the planet, Jenna.”

“I might,” she chuckled and he joined her. “I know. I know.”

“I know, right now, you want anything but go on with this show, but give it another year, and then,” his hand wavered in the air, “they’ll assail you with big roles. One day, so I am sure, I’ll open the papers and they announce you’ll play Queen Victoria or something.”

“Queen Victoria?”

“You have the height for it!” he laughed with a wide smile at her. “And don’t forget the magnificent talent of yours.”

She blushed over his remark, quickly changing the topic, “And what will you do? Don’t tell me you’ll retire.”

He gave it a laugh, but didn’t answer immediately, and Jenna knew he had given the topic a thought, “I thought about a sabbatical.”

“You! A sabbatical?” Jenna burst out, and made him look in mock appal. “I mean, yes, I can imagine you hanging out for a while, maybe a week or two, before you get all restless and in need of doing something. Something more than just hanging in a hammock, drawing sunsets and Daleks into your notebook.”

“Nothing is wrong with Daleks!” he scratched his nose, pursing his lips, while his hand tugged at his own ear, as if he wanted to call himself to order. “You know me all too well.”

“I know,” she only said, looking somewhere into the distance, suddenly all sad. “Restless like the Doctor. Always on the run.”

He had told himself earlier not to break apart, and then — like so often — Jenna said something that hit him either right in the gut or like this time, right in the heart.

A tremble went through him, and an impulse he couldn’t suppress anymore. Peter reached out to her, his hand cupping her cheek.

Her eyes fell shut the moment his warm hand touched her now vibrating skin, and she inhaled loud and sharp while leaning into the touch.

Through his hand he felt the shudder that raced through her body, and so he let his fingertips entangle with her hair by her temple, pressing slightly more against her skin.

Such gesture was all too rare, they both knew, and so she had decided in a blink of a moment, to savour it as long as she could, concentrating on the heat of the touch, that made her almost break out in tears, as she knew another maybe never would happen.

##

“ _Promise me, that you always will be amazing! That you will not forget about me, okay? That you keep on going,” sad eyes looked down at Clara. A sigh, “with the new me.”_

“ _Doctor?” Clara’s voice broke over the simply word._

“ _It will be fine, it always will be! I promise! Clara, my Clara, go on with all your believes, and never, ever doubt my feelings for you.”_

“ _Your-?”_

It hadn’t been in the script, they hadn’t written much except the dialogue, telling them earlier they were free to act as they liked. It had been one of the rare scenes Peter and Jenna agreed not to rehearse and to discuss too much, as it would take out the energy of it.

“We should act on what our head and heart tells us, don’t you think?” she had suggested and he had agreed, taking her hand moments before they had stepped inside the studio, pressing it, reassuring her with the gesture, that everything would turn out fine.

And so he had found himself staring at her, uttering his text, not hearing himself, only seeing her, and then, after four years as the Doctor and two years by her side, it finally fell into order. It finally made sense, and for a split second he regretted all those interviews about ‘ _no romance’_ , then the thought slipped away, making room for revelations.

“It’s clear she loves him,” Jenna had told him at one evening, after a little birthday party they had on set, slightly tipsy from two glasses of champagne.

“Yes, she does,” he had agreed. “But, you can’t act that on screen.”

She had stared at him puzzled and in deep disbelieve for the longest time, before she had only sighed, and had wished him a good night.

That was almost eight month ago, and now he finally understood what she had wanted to say to him in this moment, but never had.

That he could act it, if he simply would allow it, when he finally would agree and accept, would leave the narrow space of mind set he had pushed the thought of ‘ _Whouffaldi’_ , he could do it.

Jenna had been right, and he had been wrong. Funnily acting the right thing, while saying the other.

Sometimes one couldn’t escape the facts, and so he did what he knew was the right thing to do, to act, to feel. As Doctor — of course, everything else couldn’t be, could it?

He stepped forward, while she was still talking and reached for her shoulders, and while he saw in her mimic she was for a moment unsure what he was about to do, he gave her as short smile and then leaned down and covered her lips with his.

His hands cupping her cheeks, his eyes falling shut, he hoped Jenna wouldn’t be mad at him afterwards, but when he felt her hands on his chest, grasping his jumper, he relaxed again.

She could see his intent in his eyes, maybe even before he knew himself what he was about to do, and yet it caught her by surprise, when he leaned down to kiss her gently. Her hands found his chest without thought, while his warm hands burned into her skin, about to leave an impression that never would go away again.

Not that she hadn’t smelled his aftershave before in the last two years, only this time she seemed to smell it for the first time with all her awareness. Her hands rested first on his chest, and when she sensed he was afraid to go on, afraid he would get a slap in the face for his not discussed ‘ _ad lip’_ , her fingers dug into the holes of the fabric, and the skin underneath, only covered by a thin shirt.

His mouth opened slightly, breaking contact for only the blink of an eye, readjusting, before he leaned in more, holding the kiss. For a moment he thought it was so silent on set, and that probably everyone was staring in shock at the two of them.

Somewhere in the room he could hear someone clearing his throat, maybe a sign for them to let go of each other again, or maybe just a person, who had choked on a cup of water.

They could cut the damn kiss later, he thought and after giving them another two seconds, he broke the kiss.

“Clara, my Clara,” and then, he acted pain and the oncoming regeneration energy. Making him stumble back against the console, and Jenna had totally forgotten her text, almost afraid he really would change right in front of her.

He didn’t. Of course.

“ _Cut.”_

Whispers in the room, that fast rose to the usual bee-hive behaviour, leaving Jenna and Peter staring at each other. She swallowed, taking a deep breath, and she needed to laugh over herself, because she almost asked him if he really just had kissed her.

He read her thoughts, and laughed at her in relieve, his hands still on the console. Someone came up to him, marking the spot where he stood for the other one. The next Doctor.

Jenna was not allowed to move. He was, and so he stepped up to her, shoving his coat down, giving it to his assistant with a thankful smile. The next thing he did, was pulling his holey jumper over his head — it was the only one they had — leaving himself in a white shirt, handing it over to Jenna.

“I tell him, if he fucks up,” she pressed the fabric close to her, “you will come back, and take the role back again.”

He smiled, he had always adored her spirit, “Most certainly.” He looked up for a moment, seeing his replacement shown into the hall. Then his eyes found Jenna again, the one point in the last few years he could always rely on.

Once more he cupped her face for a moment, his thumb brushing over her skin. This wasn’t a goodbye, and yet it felt like one. He felt a part of his heart break. The adventure of this Team Tardis was now at its end.

Her hand landed on his, a sorrow smile on her lips, and then someone said his name, and he let go of her. “You always will be my favourite companion. My _dear_ companion.”

“My dear Doctor.”

Peter walked past her, and then turned around one last time, “Yes, I did,” he laughed, answering her silent question. “Because it was the right thing to do.”

The end.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, that was it, and I hope you could enjoy it and could go with the idea. I tried not to mention to many dates and numbers, but basically the idea is based on the idea, that Peter has made four series, what would mean Matt has left after two or David did less, or ... however you can imagine it. If you start pulling out the calculator you might find there is something illogical in it, so ... don't! ;) And based on the idea, what if Peter would be the first who leaves. Don't know, it just nagged me a while and then I needed to write about it. 
> 
> The two series they had together in this fic, are basically the ones we saw so far (before The Woman who has lived), I didn't rewrite all the history ;). 
> 
> If you might reread this one, I want to point you out to some moments, I briefly touched. There was this fic about the World Tour, you can imagine this has happened also in this AU. I mention canon text between Clara and 11 about "him being her boyfriend" I just rewrote it for the "Dress Emergency scene". I pointed out the Clara touches 12s face in The Girl Who Died. I made the last scene between them like I wrote the first scene between them in "Goodbyes are never easy". And probably a lot more, I can't recall right now. Some might be interested in this background info.
> 
> Anyway, in case you enjoyed this one, leave a message, a kudo or a comment. I am really interested what you think about it! So don't hesitate!!! Thanks for the read and your comments/kudos!  
> Colepaldi-in-the-tardis.tumblr


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